Persevere
by Black Casanova
Summary: Silence was all he had now. Sephiroth/Genesis. Smut. Angst. Crisis Core.


Written for xlightfromabovex forever and a day ago. Enjoy... again XD

Disclaimer - FFVII is not mine.

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Persevere

This is all that surrounds him now. Whereas before there was the warmth of arms, the tenderness of kisses and whispers, there's just… nothing. His only consolation is that he knows he won't have to endure this for much longer. No matter what Hollander says, it's all lies. And no matter what he knows, Genesis still follows him blindly. He needs to be healed so he can go back… back to the way it was. Back to waking to soft kisses in a warm embrace, tied up in bed sheets that could tell many a pretty tale.

He slammed his fist into the side of the wall to throw away that past, that life. It was encrusted with ice of Modeoheim that would never melt away… until it met with the flames of the SOLDIER's temper.

Genesis watched as the water trickled down the rusty metal, and how his hand still glowed orange long after the stream was gone. He flexed his fingers, dispelling the magic. Memories would get him nowhere. Remembering Sephiroth would not heal his affliction. He needed his cells. Or that was at least what Hollander was telling him this week. Before it was mako from Banora, the place of his origin, then it was the mako from Modeoheim… next it would be a hair from the head of the Goddess herself.

When Genesis thought hard enough, he could feel every single individual one of copies. What they were doing; what they were seeing. Everything. It was late at night, when he was kept awake by the burning pain and left to wander this frozen wasteland, that Genesis thought that hard. He focused however, on just one. One clone, all the way back home in Midgar. Currently wrapped up in those sheets, caught in a maze of Sephiroth's arms and legs; being consumed entirely by hungry kisses. When Genesis concentrated enough, like he was now, it almost felt like Sephiroth was kissing him. He was thankful that this clone was unmasked for he could see that face surrounded by silver hair that he had grown to hate so passionately. There might have been love there once, a long, long time ago. Before the world went crazy and chewed him over; spat him out like he was a bitter taste upon its tongue. Subconsciously, his tongue started moving within his mouth, mirroring the movements he felt from the General and the clone followed his every instruction.

For so long Genesis had felt his ministrations but left them ignored. Let the man feel cold and empty and alone. Just like Genesis. Maybe the sudden animation of the copy alarmed Sephiroth. Maybe he was too far-gone, taken over by his lusts, to care. The redhead didn't. If anyone was watching, then they better enjoy the show and not dare say a word to interrupt him. Hands reached out, in his mind's eye, caressing that pale face, tracing the dark crescents of Sephiroth's long lashes, on their way to clutching that head, pulling him closer. It was a strange puppet show, with invisible strings, controlling the marionette that was hundreds of miles away.

Without really noticing it, Genesis was making little noises, those small purrs and mewls that escaped his lips when Sephiroth was at work. He slid down the wall; the coldness numbed his pain a little. Soon enough though, the pain would be dissolved in pleasure. But the feeling coming from the copy wasn't enough… nothing was enough. A red-gloved hand found its way into his trousers, cupping around himself none to gently. There was no time for the usual ritual of acclimatisation to the touch; Genesis was immediately, furiously pumping himself with each downward thrust of Sephiroth's hips.

The harsh wind hissed against the panes of the windows, a steady sound that covered Genesis' noises as he writhed on the floor like a man possessed. Everything was so strong, that feeling of Sephiroth inside him, those deep searching kisses, the grip and whispers. He was here… in Genesis' mind. Whether his eyes were open or closed, he still saw the same thing so vividly. Too vividly. And it was Genesis who climaxed first, as clones were incapable of such, but his reactions became that of the copy. For the first time, it drove Sephiroth over the edge, whereas he almost always came in his own time.

For him, it was Genesis. The real one. And in a way, it was…

After recollecting his breath, the General besieged the copy with kisses, not like the others, these were sweet, soft and silently pleading. "Genesis," he whispered into the redhead's ears.

Genesis' eyes snapped open, he felt the rush of warmth to his skin, but there was no face there anymore. An exhausted mind made for failed concentration. His fingers tightened in the air, in Sephiroth's hair. He could still feel…

"Genesis," another set of butterfly kisses. "Come home," trailing down his neck now.

Genesis would have to pull away soon, pull out of the shell that looked just like him, or else lose his resolve forever. He reclaimed his hand, wiping his come onto the cold wall and pushed himself up into a standing position once more.

"Genesis, I lo-" With a shake of his head, that voice was gone, along with the sensations that surrounded it.

He was far from being free though.

That voice, in the silence, is all that surrounded him… it was all he has to keep him going. To remember he had a life once, gives him the courage to face each new day; to fight for another.


End file.
